


Methos Chronicles 11

by Helis_von_Askir



Series: Methos Chronicles [11]
Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24165013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helis_von_Askir/pseuds/Helis_von_Askir
Summary: He hadn't expected much out of this trip, aside from it bringing back some bad memories, but it wasn't all bad.
Series: Methos Chronicles [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1350058
Kudos: 17





	Methos Chronicles 11

“You’re awfully quiet.” MacLeod commented. He and Methos were on the way to Lisbon for an exhibition Mac was dying to see and after talking Methos into coming along he had expected the old Immortal to crack one joke after the other about it. But ever since their plane had taken off from Charles-De-Gaulle Airport, Methos had been very quiet. Right now they were cruising over the city waiting for their turn to land. He had thought it might be because Murron had gone back to the States, but he knew they still were in contact now and then, so he doubted that that was it.

“You could have told me earlier that the exhibition was in Lisbon.” Methos said after a moment. The old man seemed rigid. Something MacLeod would have thought impossible for the oldest Immortal to be able to do. He always seemed to sprawl instead of sitting like a normal human being.

“Why? What’s the problem?” Duncan asked confused.

“No problem, just…memories.” Methos replied quietly.

They left the plane, collected their luggage and got their sword cases from security in a hurry. The long wait until they could land had thrown MacLeod's planning out of the window. The exhibition was to open in less than an hour and the dress code was rather strict.

Methos had no problem with that. It meant he had to spend less time in the city than anticipated. Following the Scot, Methos tried to put those memories that had been haunting him for the entire flight out of his mind. It had been over 250 years, after all.

“We could just change in the restroom here, MacLeod. Would save us a lot of time.” Methos suggested.

MacLeod looked confused for a moment before the words sank in. “Right, brilliant idea, come on.” He hurried over to the first restroom he could find. Methos followed at a leisurely pace. He didn’t have a potential relationship riding on arriving on time to an overpriced museum opening, unlike MacLeod who desperately wanted to impress the curator, lovely Dr. Evangeline Silva. He had been trying to get a date with her for weeks now.

Methos was pretty sure Silva was only going to be a stop-gap filler until Amanda showed up again, but they were all old enough to know what they were doing.

Deciding that he had tortured MacLeod enough for one day, Methos quickly changed into his three-piece suit and was done even before the Scot was. Getting dressed quickly was a necessity for Immortals. Something MacLeod still hadn’t mastered.

“Alright, let’s go.” Mac said and hurried out again. Methos smiled and followed, his grin growling when he saw Mac’s confused look when a driver was waiting for them.

“What? Never heard of a taxi service before, MacLeod? They’re real great, take you from one place to another for a certain price. Even wait for you when you’re late.” Methos told the younger man. Maybe he wasn’t completely done winding him up.

MacLeod shot him a dirty look and got in the car. Methos thought he heard him muttered something about his ancestors as he got in after him but he could have been mistaken.

The drive to the museum led them through the streets that had not existed when he was here the last time. He had never been able to bring himself to return here after the event. Even someone like him needed distance after something like what had happened.

“You going to tell me?” Mac asked suddenly.

“Tell you what?” Methos asked absentminded.

“Just…memories?” the Scot prodded.

Methos shook his head. “Not now, MacLeod. Maybe when I’m well and truly drunk.” And he had every intention of getting drunk, for as much of his stay here as possible, for as much as he could. He should have stayed home.

The exhibition was well made, Methos had to admit that but it was clear that MacLeod was only here for Silva. And he normally was into historic exhibitions. It was almost embarrassing how the Scot was hanging on her every word. Methos left them to take a stroll around the rooms. The exhibition retold the history of Lisbon in detail. Much more detail than Methos liked when he came to the year 1755 AD.

Just memories, he had told MacLeod. But oh, it was so much more.

The painting didn’t actually portray what had happened. No mere painting could capture all the suffering, death and horror of that time. But it did awaken the memories he had tried very hard not to think about.

Lisbon, Portugal, 01. November 1755 AD

“Mommy, I’m bored.” Five year old Isabel whispered to her mother loud enough that those around them could hear it. Fortunately they were all friends and only smiled at the little girl’s complaint. It was All Saints and of course for a child the long service early in the morning was not exactly exciting.

“You need to listen to the priest, Isabel.” Catherine told her. They stood far to the back because they had come later into the church than she would have liked. Her eight year old son Juan had thrown a bit of a tantrum because he had not wanted to come, claiming going to church once a week was enough and they would have to go to church tomorrow anyway because it was Sunday. Just like his step-father. Methos wasn’t a bit churchgoer either.

“But I can’t see.” Isabel complained.

Methos reached down and picked her up, sitting her on his shoulders. “Better now?”

Isabel smiled down at him “Yes, thank you, Papa.”

Methos smiled at his wife who just rolled her eyes. In her opinion he was spoiling Isabel terrible. Which was true, but he saw no reason to stop. It had been a while since h had raised children. He had not known how much he had missed doing that until Juan and Isabel had come into his live.

Satisfied with her new vantage point, Isabel watched the proceedings at the front with rapt attention.

It was only a few minutes later that the earth started to tremble, not an unknown occurrence in Lisbon but this time it did not seem to want to stop. And before anyone could do more than look around panicked for the nearest doors the building came crashing down.

Present Day

“Gives one goosebumps, doesn’t it?” A voice startled Methos out of his memories. He turned towards the voice to see a young woman with glasses standing next to him, clutching a flute of champagne like her life depended on it.

“It’s very life-like, yes.” Methos replied shortly. He was not exactly in the mood for conversation right now. He just wanted another glass of alcohol, no matter what kind of alcohol. His glass was empty and none of the waiters were in the vicinity to be called over for a refill.

The woman kept standing next to him, her gaze fixed on the painting but not saying anything more. Weird, shouldn’t she try to make some senseless small talk?

“Is something the matter with it?” He finally asked before he could stop himself. He and his damned curiosity.

“What? What makes you say that?” she asked startled.

“Because you look like you would prefer to crawl into the painting and face whatever is coming there then be out here.” Methos gently pointed out. And she did, if she held the glass any tighter it was going to break.

“Not having the best of days, to be frank.” She replied nervously.

“Whom do you not want to see here?” Methos asked. She gave him a startled look at which he had to laugh softly. “There is only so much staring at a painting that you can do without drawing suspicion.”

“Evangeline Silva.” She sighed. “We broke up a couple of weeks ago but we still both work here.”

Methos nearly burst out laughing. But the woman next to him would have misunderstood, so he kept as straight a face as possible. “Really? I had the impression that she was very…taken with MacLeod’s interest.”

The woman scoffed at that. “She’d never would let a man near her in that manner. I go both ways, but she only plays for team. She’s only doing that to show me that she’s over me and can have anyone, no matter it she’s really interested or not. God, I’m babbling, I shouldn’t drink that much.” She said in one breath.

“Then maybe you should switch to water. Come on, let’s get you some.” Methos offered and led her to the bar in one corner of the main room.

“I’m Theresa McNeil, by the way.” The woman finally introduced herself.

“Alessandro Letta, a pleasure to meet you.” Methos replied still greatly amused. Oh, the look on MacLeod’s face when he told him that he didn’t stand a chance with Silva and why. He could hardly wait but first he had to make sure Therese didn’t end up passed out on the floor. That would be rude. MacLeod was really starting to rub off on him.

Once Theresa had some water and then coffee in her, she calmed down considerable and even turned out to be an expert of 18th century Portugal. When she had started to work here a couple of years ago, Silva had first been her boss and then later become her girlfriend.

“Then why break it up? Sounds like a pretty cushy deal to me.” Methos pointed out.

“Oh, it was, until some of your big donors heard rumors about it. This is still a very catholic country, in case you didn’t know. And those donors are very conservative.” Theresa explained.

“Ah, I see. It was you or the job and she choose the job.” Methos said.

Theresa nodded. “She did and I said some not very nice things and then she said some even worse things and well, here we are, with me trying to hide in plain sight an boring a complete stranger with the ruins of my love life.”

“Oh, I find it rather entertaining.” Methos told her with a grin.

“Thanks, I think.” Theresa sighed and looked around the exhibition room. “I think we need to leave, they’re going to close down soon.” It was clear who she was really looking for but Silva had already left, it seemed. MacLeod stood in one corner looking all disappointed that he would have to spend the night alone before noticing that some of the waitresses didn’t look all that bad.

“Yes, it does appear that way. Want me to call a cab for you?” Methos asked all gentleman-like. Damn Highlander, he really was rubbing off on him.

“I have my car here.” Theresa pointed out.

Methos scoffed. “You’re not driving, you’re way too drunk.”

“Fine, then you drive. I hope your hotel isn’t too far away.” Theresa told him and tried to smile seductively. It didn’t come off completely successfully, but considering how drunk she really was he gave her points for making a decent effort.

“You’re trying to get me into your bed.” Methos stated somewhat surprised. That normally only happened to MacLeod, and Fitz, but Fitz wasn’t around anymore.

“Yes, I am. Wasn’t I obvious enough?” Theresa wanted to know exasperated.

Methos shook his head. Only a century or two ago he would have jumped at the opportunity. “You’re drunk.” He said instead.

“Not that drunk.” She insisted.

“And you’re trying to get back at your ex-girlfriend.” Methos added the rather obvious.

Theresa started to look insulted. “Every other guy would say yes, you know.”

Methos smiled at her. “Oh, I’m saying yes, make no mistake. I just wanted to make sure we’re all aware as to why we’re doing this.” Revenge sex, you got to love it.

Theresa was very enthusiastic. She started to get out of her clothes before Methos had even closed the door of his hotel room. Ah, but he loved it when women knew what they wanted.

Grabbing Theresa around the waist he kissed her deeply and took over undressing her, until she only wore her glasses and stockings. She looked like a naughty secretary and Methos liked that.

“Why are guys into that?” Theresa wanted to know with a giggle.

Methos shrugged. “We’re just very simple creatures.”

Theresa giggled some more and pulled at Methos’ shirt. “Your turn.”

Methos grinned at her and stripped out of his own clothes. He knew the kind of reaction he usually got from others when they saw his body for the first time and Theresa didn’t disappoint.

“Wow.” She breathed. “I mean, wow.”

“Very eloquent.” Methos teased and stepped behind her, kissing her neck. “Now, tell me what you ant.” He breathed into her ear.

Theresa wanted a lot as it turned out and she was just drunk enough to tell him.

Sitting on the bed Methos had Theresa on his lap, pounding into her from underneath. With her eyes closed She rode up and down his shaft. Her small, tight breasts bounced just in front of his face and practically begged him to grab them and suck them.

“Oh, fuck, yes.” Theresa moaned. “Oh, oh, I’m coming!”

Methos could feel her tightening around him and barely managed to hold back himself. He didn’t want this to end too soon.

Theresa shuddered and fell against him. Methos pulled out of her and laid her gently down on the bed before making his way down to her body to fasten his mouth to her clit.

Theresa groaned and squirmed on the bed. He made her come several times before licking and kissing his way back up to capture her mouth. Then he entered her again and took her slowly, making it last until Theresa buried her fingernails in her back.

He smiled against her skin and made certain he hit just the right spot, making her lift off the bed as she came again, letting her milk him dry this time around.

Insistent pounding on the door woke them both the next morning. Methos rolled over and with a groan got out of bed.

“Alright, MacLeod, I’m awake. Don’t ruin the door.” He called and the pounding stopped.

He opened the door to find the Scot standing here looking all impatient. “What’s the matter?” he wanted to know.

“Dr. Silva is missing.” Mac stated and came into the room uninvited.

“What do you mean, missing?” Theresa wanted to know. She stood in the door to the bathroom only a towel wrapped around her. MacLeod blushed furiously and quickly turned back to Methos. Who was wearing even less the Highlander suddenly realized.

“Who is that? And could you two please put some clothes on?” MacLeod demanded.

“I’m Theresa McNeil. I work for Evangeline.” Theresa explained while searching for her clothes. They were thrown all over the room. Methos took his time taking fresh clothes out of the wardrobe.

“We were supposed to meet for breakfast this morning. When she didn’t show up I called her number but only got her voicemail. Her secretary hasn’t seen her either and her car is not at her house or the museum. The police is already looking for her.” MacLeod explained.

Theresa had gone quite pale and had to sit down on the bed. Methos finished dressing and then handed her one of the tiny whiskey bottles from the mini bar.

“Thanks.” She muttered and emptied the tiny bottle in one go.” What does the police know?”

“Not much, and they’re not talking to me, I’m just a _witness_.” MacLeod told her. “Do you know of any place she might have gone without telling anyone?”

Theresa shook her head. “No, what about blackmail? Evangeline is from a very rich family, not to mention the museum has very rich donors.”

“I’m sure the police is aware of all these possibilities.” Methos cut in. “Why don’t you let them do their work?”

MacLeod looked at him angry. “What if it has something to do with you know what?” he whispered.

“Well, I guess, then you would already have gotten a call. It’s not like you’re hiding. And for some reason your enemies always like to grandstand before striking at you.” Methos whispered back. There were some things Theresa wouldn’t understand and was better of not knowing.

Mac sighed. “You’re probably right, but I hate just sitting around waiting for something to happen.”

Methos patted his shoulder. “Welcome to life.”

Lisbon, Portugal, 1. November 1755 AD

He was buried under what felt like tons of rock when he revived. Grunting in pain he waited impatiently for his bones to mend themselves fully so he could start to find a way out from under all the rubble. It was dark under the stone but Methos was sure that he had not been dead all that long.

He could hear someone scream not too far off and doubled his efforts to get out. He hated being buried alive. After a few minutes his body was healed enough to start digging. It was slow going but eventually he saw some light coming through and moments later he managed to drag himself out.

All around him there was chaos and destruction. Of his family there was no sign. With a sigh Methos sat back on the stones. They had been standing right next to him, they would have been buried next to him. And considering the injuries his body had sustained there as little chance they had survived.

“Damn it all to hell!” He muttered angry and started digging again. He needed to be sure. And pray for a miracle while he dug.

They were dead, all three of them. Crushed by the heavy stones that had once been the roof and walls of the church. They weren’t the only ones. Dozens of dead were lying everywhere. Those that had survived the earthquake were wandering around aimlessly, most of them injured.

Some had kept their wits about them and led some of the others towards the Ribeira Royal Palace, where the only free space was to be had in the entire city. No one wanted to be near any buildings right now. The earth still shook now and then.

Methos went along for a while. The earthquake had taken a heavy damage on the city. He had lived through such events before but he had never gotten used to it. And there was something at the back of his mind, some nagging memory that refused to come to the forefront. Something important that he had to remember. One of the fallen stones must have hit his head really bad for him to take so long to fully recover.

When he reached the place in front of the palace Methos sat down at the nearest available spot and rested his head in his hands. His memories still refused to work properly, for some reason he kept seeing flashes from the times he had lived in Japan. The island empire was half a world away, why did it on coming to the forefront now?

With a sigh Methos sat up straight and leaned his back against a stills standing wall, his gaze traveling across the plaza and the sea beyond. The sea! Oh, by the gods, how could he have possible forgotten?

The water was going to come and flood the city. He had seen it before. With a groan he stood up. For a moment he was contemplating warning the others about what the Japanese called a tsunami, but they would not believe him. Even if they weren’t all in shock from the earthquake.

With a last look back at the sea, Methos made his way back the way he had come. He needed to reach higher ground before the water reached the shore in a might wave that would wash it all away.

He made it, just about. He was climbing one of the city’s hills hen the wave finally washed over the lower parts of Lisbon. There was screaming to be heard, but not for long, most people simply drowned.

Despite his exhaustion Methos joined some of the other survivors to drag people out of the water. They managed to save only a handful, the current of the water simply too strong.

Methos helped a young woman further up the slope when he saw the first fire. “You’ve got to be joking.” He muttered. Couldn’t they catch a break? First the earthquake, then a tsunami and now a fire? If there really was a God he sure as hell was pissed at Lisbon.

The woman next to him, older than the one he had helped before, started to sob hysterical. The day’s events finally catching up to her. With a sigh Methos gathered her in his arms and started walking. The city itself was no longer safe, not even up here. He needed to get out onto open ground where the fire couldn’t reach.

More and more survivors came out of the city’s remains and soon a human flood walked, staggered and stumbled out of Lisbon while behind them the city burned.

Present Day

“The museum just got a ransom demand.” Theresa told them after talking to the police. As a co-worker she did have a reason to want to know, as a close co-worker she needed to know. “Whoever has her wants twenty-five million euros.”

“The museum isn’t going to pay.” Methos stated. “I can’t imagine them having that kind of money lying around.”

“No, we don’t. And even if we did, paying would only invited the next lunatic to demand even more.” Theresa told them. “The police will try to stall him until they can find him and Evangeline.”

“We can’t risk that. What if we pay instead?” Mac suggested.

“You don’t have that kind of money either.” Methos pointed out.

“But you have.” Mac said.

Methos gave him an evil look. “Why don’t you say it any louder, MacLeod? I don’t think they heard you in New York.”

“You really have that kind of money?” Theresa asked surprised. “Wow, but it doesn’t matter. The police won’t allow you to pay. They don’t like civilians to mess around in one of their investigations or negotiations. We have to wait.”

Waiting did not sit well with MacLeod, especially not with a damsel in distress waiting to be rescued. “Can you think of anyone who would do this?” he asked Theresa while pacing the length of her office. “Anyone who has been paying undue attention to her lately?”

“You mean aside from you?” Theresa shook her head. “No, and Evangeline is a woman with strict habits, some would call it OCD even. It wouldn’t be hard to find out her routine. Anyone could do that.”

“Good, that probably means that it was an amateur.” Methos stated.

“What makes you say that?” Theresa wanted to know.

The old man shrugged. “A professional would know that he wouldn’t get any money out of the museum. He would go to the family, but this kidnapper isn’t. He even demanded to keep the police out of it after waiting so long to contact anyone. A professional would know that the police is there and would take that into consideration. All this screams amateur.”

“You know an awful lot about kidnapping.” Theresa said suddenly suspicious.

“Oh, come on, you just have to think this through. The police will confirm everything I just said. And besides, my insurance insisted on telling all that when I signed the contract with them.” Methos told her. “Oh, and she probably knew the kidnapper as there was no sign of struggle, am I right?”

Theresa was forced to nod. That was pretty much what the police had told her. They had just added that they were confident that they would be able to trace the next call the kidnapper made. “Why do you need insurance for getting kidnaped?”

“I’m in the early stages of being a famous painter. My agent insisted.” Methos shrugged. “There are a lot of crazy people out there.”

“I still don’t like this.” MacLeod spoke up. “We should be doing something.”

“And where would you start, MacLeod?” Methos asked. “Let the police work. And if they haven’t found he rin the next twenty-four hours you can go and play the hero, alright?”

The kidnapper called several hours later with instructions for the exchange. The police of course played along and kept the man on the line long enough to get a location. Some warehouse at the harbor, belonging to a colleague of Theresa and Evangeline.

“Rodrigo Munoz? Are you kidding me?” Theresa asked incredulous.

“I take it you know him then?” the police inspector raised his eyebrow at her outburst.

“He makes the coffee and brings lunch. He’s…well, not the brightest and he has some…issues with drugs. His father got him the job to straighten him out after cutting him off from the family money.” Theresa explained.

“And he decided he want his old cushy life back by trying his hand in some extortion.” Methos muttered. “Really not the brightest.”

“No, and we will have him surrounded soon. In half an hour this will be over.” The inspector promised.

It wasn’t quite as simple as that. When Munoz saw the police he threatened to kill Silva unless they let him go. And gave him the money. Which the police refused to do unless he let his hostage go. Munoz was drunk enough to believe he was in the stronger position and could with them out. And the police was not adverse to show him that they could outwait him instead.

“They’re not going to storm, are they?” Theresa asked worried. “They could hurt Evangeline.”

“No, I’m pretty sure they have a better plan.” Methos assured her.

“Like what?” Theresa wanted to know.

Methos shrugged somewhat helplessly. “I don’t know, wait until he asks for food and then put something in before delivering it, or wait until he steps in front of one of the windows and then a sniper blows his brains out.”

“Or they do manage to talk him down.” Mac added. “It will be fine. We just need to have patience.”

Methos gave him a pointed look at that which the Scot ignored.

After another hour Munoz demanded something to eat, a Mac menu of all things and only for himself. The police was only too happy to oblige. And ten minutes after the delivery the police stormed the warehouse. They found Munoz deeply asleep and Evangeline tried to a chair but otherwise unharmed.

The police gently forced her to accept the ride to the hospital to have her checked out. Theresa wasn’t allowed to come along in the ambulance and turned towards Methos. “Can I drive now?”

Wordlessly Methos handed her the keys to her car. “I can drive you, in case you’re too…distracted.”

Theresa took a long, deep breath. “No, thanks, I’m fine. I just need some time alone to think.” She took the keys and ran towards her car.

“Wait a second.” Mac spoke up. “Are they…?”

Methos forcefully smothered a grin. “Yes.”

“But…but, she and you…” MacLeod looked kind of lost. It was amusing and kind of adorable.

Methos patted the younger man on the shoulder. “Get-back-at-her-ex sex. It was great. Welcome to the 21st century, MacLeod.”

End


End file.
